The Way It Ends
by Livin4Jesus
Summary: Everything suddenly seemed to move in slow motion. Bruce glanced to the left to see nothing but a pair of headlights headed straight for them. "TONY!" he screamed, just before everything went black. No Slash.
1. This Is the Way It Ends

**A/N This is something I wrote several months ago and promptly forgot about. I'm still not real sure where this one came from, but I just had to write it. Hope you guys like it! :)**

**This Is the Way It Ends**

It only takes seconds for everything to change. In the blink of an eye, things can go horribly wrong and leave you wondering just how you ended up where you are.

Bruce was wondering that very thing as he sat in a hospital waiting room, unsure if he was going to be celebrating or grieving by the end of the night.

**)()()(**

A rare set of occurrences had left Tony, Bruce, and Clint home at the tower alone for a day.

Steve and Thor, at the request of SHIELD, were taking care of some kind of something going on in Canada. In all honesty, Tony had no idea what because he hadn't been listening. But he did know it was minor and shouldn't take very long.

Pepper had flown to the west coast for one day for some kind of Stark Industries problem or business, once again he hadn't really been listening. And rather than be stuck in the tower with the three guys, Natasha had decided to go with her.

Tony, Clint, and Bruce didn't mind, though, as they were looking forward to "hanging out with the guys" (Tony's words, not theirs).

All of that had been the day before. Since then, Pepper's business had been concluded and Steve's and Thor's mission had been completed so everyone was due back the following day. Tony, Bruce, and Clint decided to take advantage of the last night before everyone was back, to hang out. So the three of them piled into the car and drove to a restaurant a few minutes from the tower.

The restaurant wasn't a high class, expensive place, but it had good food and the three of them could relax and talk and enjoy each others company.

Once they arrived at the restaurant, they found a table and gave the waitress their drink orders. Bruce opted for water as usual (alcohol and the Hulk usually didn't mix very well). And Tony made sure to only have one beer since they had taken his car and there was no way he was letting someone else drive one of his precious cars and Pepper (and the rest if the team, but he wasn't nearly as worried about them) wouldn't hesitate to kill him if he drove buzzed, drunk, or anything even close to those two.

Clint decided to follow his teammates' lead and ended up only refilling his beer once and only drank about half of the second one. The three friends were more interested in hanging out and talking than getting drunk anyway.

After they finished eating, they just sat and talked, enjoying being out of the tower for something other than a battle or natural disaster.

About an hour later, they decided to call it a night. Tony paid the bill, and the three of them left the restaurant.

They were in the car on the way back to the tower. Tony was driving, Clint was in the passenger seat, and Bruce was sitting in the back. Tony and Clint were arguing good-naturedly about some silly, meaningless topic that had come up at the restaurant and were still trying to get Bruce involved in the discussion. The scientist wasn't about to let himself be dragged into it, but he was more than happy to laugh at their antics.

It was as they were going through a green traffic light that everything seemed to move in slow motion. Seeing movement out of the corner of his eye, Bruce glanced to the left to see nothing but a pair of headlights headed straight for them.

"TONY!" he screamed, just before everything went black.

**)()()(**

Bruce came back to consciousness to the sound of a horn blaring. He blinked and took careful stock of his injuries before moving.

He didn't have anything broken or any major pain. His head hurt a bit but it was mostly a dull throbbing ache. There weren't any cuts or bleeding on his head and he was coherent. He determined that he might have a mild concussion if that. Thanks to The Other Guy, his body was a bit more sturdy than a typical human. That was one of the few silver linings to having The Other Guy. Although, ever since Bruce had become part of the Avengers, he had started finding more things to add to that list.

Bruce's self assessment took only a few seconds, and as soon as he deemed himself as being okay, he turned his attention to his friends. He looked into the front of the vehicle to see Tony, unconscious (he hoped), with his head and upper body laying on the steering wheel, and Clint was... nowhere to be found.

The archer was no longer in the car and Bruce quickly saw the reason why. A shard of glass had imbedded itself into the fabric of the seat belt, snapping it in two and leaving the archer unprotected and at the mercy of the momentum of the car as it had spun and skidded, more than likely sending Clint flying through the now shattered windshield. Bruce prayed that wherever he was, he was still alive.

He wanted to go find Clint, but first he needed to check on Tony. Bruce unbuckled his seat belt and leaned into the front of the car. He pressed his fingers to Tony's neck in search of a pulse, careful not to move the billionaire in case he had any spinal injuries.

Bruce breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the strong, steady beat of Tony's heart against his fingers. Bruce visually looked Tony over and didn't see any blood or other signs of injury other than a swollen, possibly sprained or broken, wrist, and a cut on his forehead that was bleeding freely. He had probably either hit it on the window or the steering wheel and Bruce would bet that he had a concussion, at least he hoped that's all the billionaire had.

Other than that, Bruce didn't see any injuries, but he didn't dare move Tony for fear of back or internal injuries that he could worsen by moving his friend. Bruce was loathe to leave Tony but he needed to find Clint and with his limited knowledge and lack of equipment, there wasn't anything he could do for Tony besides stemming the bloodflow coming from his head wound.

So Bruce tore a strip of cloth from his jacket and used it to successfully stop the bleeding. For all Bruce knew, Tony could have internal injuries in which case he would need all the blood he could keep.

Once finished, Bruce turned his attention to getting out of the car. One look at the rear driver's side door told him he wouldn't be getting out that way. The whole left side of the car had been caved in and aside from the door handle and the hole where the window used to be, it was impossible to tell where the door stopped and the rest of the car began.

Bruce then turned his attention to the rear passenger side door. He pulled the handle and pushed and even kicked against the door but to no avail. So he was forced to climb out the back window, which had been shattered in the crash. It was a bit of a squeeze but he made it and slid off the back of the car and onto the pavement.

He had to steady himself against the car for a moment, feeling a bit unsteady. However he attributed that to being knocked out, slung around the car, and then having to crawl out the back of it. Once his balance was restored, he made his way around the car toward the driver's side to check on Tony from a better angle.

Just as he reached the driver's window, he heard a moan come from the unconscious billionaire.

"Tony! Tony, don't move!" he commanded. "I need you to stay very still. Can you hear me?"

"Bruce?" Tony slurred.

"Yes, it's me. Don't move. Okay?"

"Okay," Tony replied.

"Tony I need you to tell me what hurts," Bruce said trying to keep his tone firm but soothing so as not to alarm the billionaire.

"Head," Tony replied.

"Anything else? Your neck or back?"

"Not really. Just my head. Hurts a lot," Tony mumbled.

Bruce was almost positive that Tony had a concussion but the fact that he was coherent and responsive allayed his fears a bit.

"All right, Tony, very carefully, can you move your arms?" Bruce asked, watching the billionaire's hands and arms, which were lying in his lap, for any movement.

Carefully, Tony raised his hands up off of his lap, his hands shaking a bit but Bruce was confident that it was due to pain, adrenalin, and maybe even some shock. It was only a second later that all five fingers on his left hand began moving and bending just as they should while the fingers on his right hand simply twitched before Tony let out a pained hiss.

"My wrist," he said.

"Oh sorry," Bruce said with a wince of sympathy. "I think it's either sprained or broken. But the fact that you can move your fingers gives me hope that it may just be a bad sprain. Now, can you feel your legs?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah," Tong answered.

"Then I need you to move them."

Tony obliged and both legs moved and flexed without any sign of problems. Bruce breathed another sigh of relief at the absence of any kind of paralysis.

"Okay, Tony, very slowly I want you to sit back. I'm going to help you. If anything, especially your neck or back starts hurting I want you to stop moving okay?" Bruce said.

He really didn't want to move Tony but his concern for Clint kept growing by the minute and the scientist knew that unless he stayed right there and forced Tony to remain where he was then the billionaire was going to move on his own and Bruce would much rather help him than let him do it by himself. Bruce just prayed that this decision didn't cause the billionaire any harm.

"Okay, you ready?" Bruce asked, placing one hand on Tony's chest and the other on the back of Tony's neck in the hope that he could maybe at least somewhat stabilize Tony's neck in case it was injured.

"Yeah," Tony answered.

"All right. Slowly," Bruce said, once again hoping that he wasn't making a horrible mistake.

Slowly, Tony brought up his left hand and braced it against the steering wheel, using it to push himself back. With the aid of Bruce's hand pushing on his chest, Tony was able to sit up and lean back against the seat.

"Okay, anything hurt?" Bruce asked, carefully pulling his hands back.

"Not besides my head and wrist," Tony answered.

"Good. Now, Tony, I need you to look at me." Once the billionaire's eyes found his face, Bruce continued. "Is your vision blurry or off in any way?"

"A little blurry, but not bad," Tony said.

"Do you see my hand?" Bruce asked, holding up one finger in front of the billionaire's face.

"One," Tony said.

"What?" Bruce asked confused.

"Weren't you going to ask me how many fingers?" he asked with a slight smirk.

"Not funny," Bruce said, but he couldn't help but smirk a bit himself. If Tony could joke then he was probably going to be okay. Or he could just be loopy from the concussion. "Follow my finger," Bruce commanded.

"Where's it going?" Tony quipped.

Definitely loopy.

"Tony be serious for a second," Bruce said gently.

Tony complied, and his eyes followed Bruce's finger without a problem. His pupils were slightly different sizes but he was mostly coherent and responsive so Bruce wasn't too worried. He was, however, almost on the verge of panic concerning Clint.

Time had been moving so fast and yet so slow. Everything that had happened since Bruce had regained consciousness had only taken about five minutes but that was still too long in Bruce's book.

"Tony. Look, I need you to stay here and don't move, okay?" Bruce said slowly to be sure that Tony understood him.

"You going somewhere?" Tony asked.

"Yes. I have to try to find Clint."

At this, Tony's eyes widened a bit as his concussed brain finally remembered the third member of their party. Tony slowly turned his head toward the passenger seat to see it empty.

"Where is he?" Tony asked, a bit of fear leaking into his voice.

"I don't know. I think he was thrown through the windshield. Now I need you to _stay here_," Bruce stressed.

"I'm coming with you," Tony said.

"No, Tony. There is no way you are getting out on this side and you don't need to be moving anyway. The rescue teams may have to cut you out when they get here but until then, just stay here." He couldn't wait any longer and just hoped that Tony would do as he said.

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><p><strong>AN Let me know what you think! :)**


	2. Don't Tell Me It's Meaningless

**A/N Thank you so much to everyone who has alerted, faved, and reviewed this so far! I'm glad you guys are enjoying it! I apologize for the shortness of this chapter. The next one will be a little longer.**

**Don't Tell Me It's Meaningless**

Bruce walked toward the front of the car, scanning the road for any sign of Clint as he went. Still not seeing the archer, Bruce circled around the front of the pickup truck that had hit them. He caught a glimpse of the driver slumped over, his nose obviously broken and bleeding. Bruce couldn't tell if he was simply unconscious or worse. He started to go check on the driver when something caught his eye.

There, laying completely unmoving, on his back, in the middle of the intersection, with his face turned away from Bruce, was Clint.

Bruce didn't hesitate to run the remaining twenty feet and drop to his knees next to the archer, checking for a pulse and breathing, both of which, thankfully, were there.

Whereas Tony had almost no visible injuries, Clint was the opposite. Almost his entire body was covered in injuries.

Clint's clothes were ripped and bloody, he was covered in cuts and scrapes, likely from both the glass of the windshield and from skidding across the pavement, and he had a gash that started right above his left eyebrow and wrapped around the side of his head and across his left temple, stopping just short of his ear. The entire left side of Clint's face was streaked in blood.

Bruce immediately tore off some of his shirt and used it to apply pressure to Clint's head.

The next thing Bruce noticed, was Clint's left arm, which was obviously broken, followed by at least two broken ribs that looked out of place beneath the archer's ripped shirt. Bruce sincerely hoped that they hadn't punctured anything.

Then Bruce's eyes stopped scanning Clint's body and locked onto the archer's abdomen. More specifically, on the three inch wide, dagger-like shard of glass sticking out of the archer's abdomen.

It was times like these when Bruce really wished the 'Dr.' in front of his name stood for MD instead of PhD. Bruce knew he was out of his depth but he had to at least do something, no matter how minor. So he was forced to rely on what little he had learned by reading, picked up by practicing in third world countries, and, yes, even a little from what he had seen on TV and in movies.

He quickly tore a chunk off the bottom of his shirt and carefully positioned it around the glass to stem the blood. He didn't dare pull the glass out. There were far too many things that could go wrong if he did that. He knew that much.

"Clint?"

Bruce was so focused on Clint that it wasn't until he spoke, that Bruce looked up to see Tony was standing by the truck that had hit them. Bruce could just see enough of their car to see the passenger door standing open.

"Tony! What are you doing? You shouldn't be moving," Bruce said.

"How is he?" Tony asked, looking at the archer worriedly.

"He's alive. Beyond that... I don't know," Bruce answered honestly.

Tony started to walk toward them when he swayed and placed his left hand against the truck to steady himself, his injured right hand cradled against his midsection. Bruce didn't want to leave Clint but Tony wasn't giving him any choice. Bruce jumped to his feet and ran over to Tony.

He gently grabbed the billionaire's arm and helped him sit next to the truck and lean back against the vehicle.

"Clint," Tony weakly protested.

"Tony, stay here. I'll take care of Clint," Bruce promised.

After a moment, Tony gave him a small nod. Feeling fairly confident that Tony would stay where he was this time, Bruce returned to Clint.

A minute later, Bruce was ready to kick himself. He hadn't thought to call for help. Granted it had only been a few minutes since the crash, but still, that should have been the first thing he did. He started to try to find his phone while keeping pressure on Clint's wounds.

"Bruce," Tony called.

"Yeah, Tony?" Bruce said distractedly.

"It was green," he said softly.

Bruce stopped what he was doing and looked up to meet Tony's agonized eyes.

"I know."

"Hey, you okay?"

Bruce turned to see a young guy, who couldn't be more than eighteen or nineteen, approaching them.

"Yeah, I'm fine but my friend isn't," Bruce replied.

"I called 911. An ambulance is on the way," the guy said. "Anything I can do?"

"Could you go sit with my other friend?" Bruce said, motioning to Tony. "Make sure he's okay?" Bruce asked, more to make sure Tony didn't suddenly decide to go for another walk.

"Sure," the guy agreed and walked toward Tony.

"It was green," Tony said again.

"Is he drunk?" the stranger asked.

"No, he's not drunk," Bruce said.

"Green. It was green," Tony mumbled to himself.

"He sounds drunk."

"He's not drunk! He's concussed," Bruce snapped.

"How do you know?" the guy asked, genuinely curious.

"You mean besides the bleeding head wound?" Bruce asked sarcastically. He had just been in a severe car crash and was currently having to defend one friend's sobriety while trying to keep his other friend alive, so excuse him for being a bit irritated. "His pupils are slightly uneven and aren't reacting to the light quite like they should," he explained.

"Oh," the guy said.

"Look... What's your name anyway?" Bruce asked.

"Thomas."

"Thomas, this wasn't our fault. That guy," Bruce motioned to the driver of the truck, "hit us. Our light was green. That's what Tony keeps rambling about. He's concussed and that can make someone sound drunk because the brain has been injured," Bruce explained more patiently, feeling bad about snapping at the kid. He was only trying to help.

"Okay, I see," the teen said, nodding.

"Good. Now I don't know if Tony has any other injuries so I need you to keep him from moving too much while I deal with Clint. Can you do that?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah, sure," the guy eagerly agreed and crouched down next to Tony who was staring intently at Bruce and Clint.

For Bruce, the next several minutes were one big blur. The Other Guy may have kept him from getting concussed but he wasn't protecting the scientist from shock which was finally catching up to him. When asked later, Bruce couldn't tell anyone what had occurred between Thomas sitting down next to Tony and their arrival at the hospital.

According to Tony, the ambulance arrived within a couple of minutes and the paramedics went to work on Clint. In seconds, they had the archer on a backboard and were placing him on a gurney. Just minutes after arriving, they had whisked the archer away, leaving one paramedic behind to attend to the other victims while they waited for more ambulances to arrive. At one point, Thomas left to talk to the police who had finally arrived. Tony had the presence of mind to thank the kind teenager for his help, causing the young man to smile and wish them well.

Once the paramedic was sure that Tony and Bruce weren't going to die anytime soon, he checked the driver of the other vehicle and confirmed that he was still alive.

After that, Tony stopped paying attention for fear that if he thought about the other driver for long that he would finish the guy off himself. Fortunately, he had a perfectly good concussion to help him zone out until he was being gently shaken by Bruce who looked like he wasn't anymore in touch with reality than the billionaire was. They were both operating on auto pilot, their brains taking care of the important things, like getting into an ambulance, without them ever really registering it all.

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><p><strong>Let me know if you liked it! Or even if you didn't. :)<strong>


	3. There'll Be No Compromise

**A/N Thank you to everyone reading and reviewing this story! You guys make my day! I apologize for not responding to each review individually but I came down with the flu this week so I've been kind of out of it. Once again, sorry for the shortness of this. The next one will definitely be longer.**

**For those of you who wanted more Tony whump, I apologize. I really tried to write more Tony whump into this chapter but for some reason, Tony just refused to be whumped further, which is strange considering the amounts of hurt I've piled on him in other stories. I guess he just decided it was Clint's turn. Anyway, I hope you guys still enjoy this regardless and maybe Concussed!Tony will help make up for it just a bit.**

**There'll Be No Compromise**

Tony felt like he merely blinked and they were climbing out of the ambulance at the hospital. About that time, Bruce seemed to finally return to reality and started actually processing things again. The waiting hospital staff ushered Tony and Bruce inside and began examining them.

Bruce was quickly deemed okay if a bit shocky but they allowed him to go to the waiting room while Tony went for x-rays on his wrist.

It was while the scientist was in the waiting room, that two cops approached him and asked for his account of the accident. Bruce told them everything he could remember. He had seen headlights, had passed out, and awoken to their car caved in and a pickup truck next to them. But above all, he was sure to make it clear that their light had been green.

"Now Dr. Banner, I have to ask. Are you sure, Mr. Stark wasn't drunk?" one of the cops asked once Bruce finished his recount of events. Tony's past track record for partying and ignoring the law was well known.

"Yes. I've been with him all night and know for a fact that he only had one beer," Bruce said tiredly. "I promise you, Tony wasn't the cause of this accident. He was driving safely, under the speed limit, and the light was green. If you don't believe me, give him a breathalyzer test."

"That wont be necessary," a resident said as she walked up to them. "Your friend has a moderate concussion and a fractured wrist but he should be fine. We also ran a blood test on him. His blood alcohol level was only point zero one, well below the legal limit. The driver of the other vehicle however had a blood alcohol level that was through the roof."

"How much?" the first cop asked.

"Point three," the resident said, eliciting a whistle from the other officer.

"Well I think it's obvious what happened here. The driver of the truck was plastered, ran a red, and t-boned you guys," the first cop said. "We'll have to talk to everyone and get statements but it looks pretty straightforward."

"Thank you," Bruce said, shaking the officer's hand.

"I hope Mr. Barton is all right," he said.

"So do I," Bruce agreed before the officer took his leave.

"Mr. Banner," the resident said, lightly touching Bruce's arm to get his attention. "If you would like to see Mr. Stark, I can take you to him."

"Yes, please," Bruce said. "And I was also wondering about my other friend, Clint. He was brought in ahead if us and he was pretty badly injured."

"Oh, yes. I remember him," she said. "He is in surgery to repair a stab wound to the abdomen, a punctured lung due to a broken rib, and some other internal injuries. Last I heard, he was stable. If I get any more information I'll let you know," the kind resident promised.

"Thank you," Bruce said gratefully.

"You're welcome," she said with a small smile as she led him into the room where Tony was before taking her leave.

Bruce moved over and sat beside Tony as a nurse casted his wrist and stitched up the cut on his forehead before taping a gauze bandage over it. Once finished, the doctor wanted to admit Tony for observation so they could keep an eye on his moderate concussion, but the last thing Tony wanted was to spend the night in a hospital room. So he turned on the whining, begging, and puppy dog eyes and got them to agree to not admit him, but only on the condition that Bruce watched him and did routine concussion checks on him to be sure his condition didn't deteriorate.

So now the two of them were sitting side by side in the waiting room. Once he and Tony were taken care of, Bruce had finally had the presence of mind to remember the rest of the team who were traveling home the next day. Then came the agonizing task of telling Steve, Thor, Pepper, and Natasha what had happened.

Fortunately, thanks to the high-tech phones that Tony had given all of them, Bruce was able to tie the two calls into one and tell everyone at the same time, something he was extremely grateful for. He didn't know if could have related the story twice. As it was, he wasn't sure how he managed to do it once. But somehow he had. Tony hadn't contributed at all, completely zoned out, whether due to the concussion or by choice to avoid thinking about happened, Bruce didn't know, but he wished he could have done the same.

As expected, the others didn't take it very well. The conversation started off light and typical like any normal phone conversation. But that quickly changed when they heard Bruce's tone of voice and knew something was wrong. Bruce kept it as simple and straight to the point as possible, sparing most of the details and keeping to the facts.

He told them about the crash and that he and Tony were all right and they were waiting on news on Clint. He carefully avoided telling them about the severity of Clint's injuries until they got there, which would be in the next several hours as Thor and Steve hopped aboard their quinjet and pushed it to full throttle before they even finished talking to Bruce. And Pepper sent orders for the Stark Industries jet to be prepared to leave, and once on board, she would order the pilots to fly as fast as possible.

But even at top speed, it would still be several hours before all four of them got there and until then, Tony and Bruce were on their own.

Once the phone conversation was finished, Bruce sat back in his chair, emotionally and physically exhausted. For several minutes, both men sat side by side in tired silence before Tony spoke up for the first time since Bruce had hung up the phone.

"Hey Bruce?"

"Yeah?" Bruce asked warily, preparing himself for what Tony might say next.

The billionaire had been alternating between coherent and serious; and loopy and silly. The scientist had no idea which it was this time.

"So why didn't you hulk-out during the crash?" Tony asked.

Apparently, it was coherent and serious this time.

"Huh, I hadn't even thought about that. I guess I must have been knocked out before he could make an appearance," Bruce answered.

"You were knocked out?" Tony asked, some concern lacing his voice.

"Just for a few seconds," Bruce said shrugging it off.

"How do you know it was only a few seconds?" Tony asked.

"Because no pedestrians or rescue teams had shown up yet, so I'm pretty sure it wasn't for any length of time."

"Shouldn't you still get checked out just in case?"

"Nah, The Other Guy makes me pretty resilient. I don't get injured very easily or stay down from injuries for long," Bruce assured.

"Oh, the Hulk makes you bouncy," Tony said completely serious.

"Huh?" Bruce asked, not following his friend at all.

"You bounce back quick. The Hulk makes you bouncy," Tony explained as if it was obvious.

And just like that, loopy and silly was back.

Fortunately for Bruce, Tony once again fell silent and a few minutes later, the billionaire was asleep, slumped over with his head resting on Bruce's shoulder. The scientist thought about shifting Tony back upright and off of his shoulder but he didn't want to wake him. They both could use all the sleep they could get and Bruce didn't see himself falling asleep anytime soon even as tired as he was. So, at the very least, one of them could get some sleep. And Bruce was going to have to wake Tony in half an hour to make sure he didn't have any brain damage, at least no more than normal... (he had definitely been hanging out with Tony and Clint too much lately). So he decided to just let Tony use him as a pillow for the time being.

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><p><strong>Drop me a review and tell me if you liked it. :)<strong>


	4. We Fall and We Too Shall Rise

**A/N See? I promised this one would be longer, over a full page longer to be exact. :)**

**Because I forgot to mention this before, I know practically nothing about medical practices besides what little I could find on Google. So, please excuse any major flaws.**

**We Fall and We Too Shall Rise**

Over the next several hours, Tony was pretty much out, only waking when Bruce roused him to check his mental function before Tony dozed back off again. Bruce didn't sleep but he did zone in and out for several minutes at a time where he wasn't really aware of anything. It was kind of like sleep in that there were stretches of time when his mind was just blank and he was no longer aware of the passing of time, and when he did return to reality (usually due to the beeping of his watch alarm to signal time for another concussion check) his mind did actually feel a bit more rested even though he hadn't actually slept any.

It was in one of his zoned out states that Pepper, Natasha, Steve and Thor found him. The two planes had landed at the airport within minutes of each other and the four of them had grabbed a cab and headed to the hospital together.

They walked into the waiting room to see Bruce sitting in a chair and Tony asleep with his head in Bruce's lap. It looked like Tony had fallen asleep next to Bruce and slid sideways in his sleep until he had fallen over to rest his head on Bruce's leg. And although Bruce's hand rested on the billionaire's shoulder, it looked like the scientist wasn't actually aware that Tony was laying the way he was.

Besides looking exhausted, Bruce mostly just looked shell shocked. He was staring at the wall across the room, but by the glazed look in his eyes it was clear that he wasn't seeing it.

"Bruce?" Pepper said softly as she sat down next to the scientist and laid a hand on his shoulder.

Bruce blinked and came back to reality.

"Hey, guys. You made it," he said with a small smile, glancing at his watch before noticing the billionaire in his lap and rolling his eyes.

Pepper noticed his focus and reached forward to wake Tony so she could move him off of Bruce but the scientist stopped her.

"No, just let him sleep. I'll have to wake him in ten minutes to do a concussion check anyway."

"Concussion check? What is that?" Thor asked as he and Steve sat down in chairs across from Bruce, and Natasha took the seat on the other side of Tony.

"A concussion is a minor brain injury that can occur when someone receives a blow to the head. In this case, it was when Tony hit his head during the crash. Now when someone who has a concussion sleeps, they need to be woken up every so often to make sure that they haven't slipped into a coma. So about every thirty minutes, I wake him up and ask him questions to make sure he's coherent," Bruce explained, aware that he was rambling slightly, but Thor didn't seem to mind as he nodded his understanding.

"So, how bad is he hurt?" Steve asked Bruce. "You said on the phone that you two were fine."

"We are. Tony has a moderate concussion and a fractured wrist but he's fine," Bruce assured.

"What about you?" Natasha asked, scrutinizing him.

"I'm fine. Took a little bump to the head but the other guy fixes me up pretty quick. Now, I'm just tired," Bruce promised and Natasha seemed to accept it.

"Bruce, what happened?" Pepper asked.

Bruce sighed heavily before relating the details of the accident.

"Did he have anything to drink?" Steve asked when Bruce mentioned that Tony had been driving, and immediately knew it was the wrong thing to ask as Bruce's face hardened and he looked away from everyone, his teeth clenched.

"Bruce?" Pepper asked, starting to worry that the scientist's reaction was a confirmation.

"I'm tired of people asking me that," he said at length. "He wasn't drunk! He'd had one beer!" he snapped, turning to glare at them. "Yes, Tony drinks and yes, he can be pretty stupid sometimes but do you really think he would endanger his life and the lives of others by driving drunk? And do you think Clint or I would let him? Give us all at least a little credit!" he spat.

The others looked suitably chastised.

"Sorry, Bruce. You're right we should have had more faith," Steve said softly.

"No, I'm sorry," Bruce sighed, removing his glasses (he was still amazed they had survived the crash) and pinching the bridge of his nose. "I shouldn't have snapped at you guys. I guess I'm just tired."

"Hey, after what happened, if anyone has a good excuse to get short and snippy it's you," Pepper assured, laying a gentle hand on the scientist's shoulder.

"How is Clint?" Natasha asked.

"He was in pretty bad shape the last time I saw him and last I heard, he was critical and they were taking him into surgery," Bruce said, giving it to them straight.

"Surgery? For what?" Thor asked concerned.

"At the very least, to repair the puncture wound in his abdomen from a shard of glass and his punctured lung from a broken rib. Beyond that, I don't know," Bruce answered.

"Why was he so badly injured? Did the other vehicle hit on his side?" Steve asked.

"No, a piece of glass ripped trough his seat belt, cutting it in two. Then he was thrown through the windshield," Bruce stated robotically, detaching himself from his memories and pushing his feelings to the back of his mind until he was better rested and strong enough to deal with them without breaking down completely.

At that moment, the scientist would have really preferred to just shut down and withdraw into himself again. His adrenalin had long since drained away hours before and everything was catching up to him, most notably his exhaustion, but he wasn't finished yet. He had to fill his friends in and he had to take care of Tony. Shutting down would just have to wait.

Speaking of Tony, it was about time for another concussion check and the sleeping man would probably want to see the others too.

"Tony. Come on, Tony. Wake up," Bruce said, shaking Tony's shoulder gently.

"I am Tony Stark. Billionaire, philanthropist, Iron Man, Avenger, and totally awesome superhero. You are Brucey, the man with anger issues and you are an Avenger too. We are currently at some hospital that I wasn't paying attention to the name of, after being in a car crash. Goodnight," Tony mumbled without opening his eyes.

The others looked at Bruce with questioning expressions.

"I've been waking him up and asking him what his name is and where we are, every thirty minutes for the last several hours to make sure he's okay. He's pretty much got the answers memorized by now," Bruce explained before turning back to Tony. "Tony, wake up. The others are here."

Tony finally took notice of the hand that was gently going through his hair and he was pretty sure that Bruce wasn't the one doing that. At least he hoped not. He turned his head enough to blearily look up at the owner of the hand and saw Pepper looking down at him.

"Hey," he said with a lazy smile.

"Are you coherent or loopy this time?" Bruce asked.

"What are you talking about?" Tony mumbled, looking back at Bruce. "I'm never loopy."

"Says the one who was calling me bouncy earlier," Bruce said.

Tony opened his mouth then closed it as he remembered that conversation.

"It made sense at the time," Tony said.

"Welcome to the joys of being concussed, My Friend," Bruce said.

With Bruce's and Pepper's help, Tony slowly sat up, wincing as his head pounded.

"What's going on?" Tony asked, the question directed at Bruce.

"Nothing new. We're still waiting to hear something."

Tony nodded slightly, regretting the movement as the pain in his head spiked a bit. He reached up and rubbed his eyes.

"Tony?" Pepper asked worriedly.

"I'm fine. Just a headache."

"Uh, isn't that a bad thing with a concussion?" Steve asked.

"It can be," Bruce answered. "But in this case I think it's just normal pain from getting hit in the head."

"How'd all of you get here so fast?" Tony asked suddenly.

"You've been asleep for hours," Bruce said.

"Really?" Tony asked surprised. "It seems like I only just dozed off," he mumbled to himself, rubbing the back of his neck tiredly.

"Although, you did make pretty good time," Bruce added, looking at the others.

"You'd be surprised how fast you can fly when you have a hammer-wielding alien who can control the weather, in the plane with you. Thor whipped up a huge tailwind that almost cut our flying time in half," Steve said, patting Thor on the shoulder.

"And you would be amazed at how fast the pilots are willing to fly when you have an assassin _request_ for them to go faster," Pepper said, sending Natasha a look as she emphasized 'request.'

"Oh, I can imagine," Tony said, knowing firsthand the agent's ability to instill fear in people. "Hey, what time is it anyway?" he asked, looking at his wrist that no longer had a watch on it. He must have lost it during the crash.

"Almost six a.m.," Bruce answered.

"Wow," Tony sighed. "I really was out. Shouldn't we have heard something by now? It's been, what? Somewhere near seven hours since we got here?" Tony said.

"Yeah, round about," Bruce said.

Neither of them knew exactly what time it had been when they got there, but it had been around eleven o'clock when they had left the restaurant and the crash had only been a few minutes after that.

"I'll go ask if they know anything," Steve offered, standing up.

He returned a few minutes later and reported that Clint was out of surgery and the doctor would be coming to talk to them soon.

Soon, ended up only being about five minutes as a brown-haired woman who looked to be in her thirties walked into the waiting room.

"Family of," she consulted the chart in her hand, "Clint Barton?"

The six of them stood up and walked toward her, causing a surprised look to cross her face. She obviously hadn't been expecting that many people.

"Are you all family?" The doctor asked.

"Yes, we are," Tony and Bruce replied instantly.

She looked at them for a moment before nodding.

"In that case, I need you all to come with me. We have some things we need to discuss."

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><p><strong>Drop me a word or two (or more) and let me know if you liked it. :)<strong>


	5. I Think I Am Ready Now

**A/N ****First off, a huge shout out and a BIG thank you goes to Guest reviewer who alerted me to the fact that someone had 'borrowed' large parts of this story and passed it off as their own. I reported it, and it has been resolved. Thank you, Guest, for letting me know! I really appreciate it! **

**Thank you all for the reviews and for reading this story. We are starting to wind down now. Awww! Yeah, I know, all good things and all that. But, alas, it has to end. Fortunately for those of you who like my Avengers stories, I do have some other things in the works to hopefully debut soon. So don't forget about me. :)**

**Also, please read the A/N at the end of the chapter as I would like your opinion on something.**

**I Think I Am Ready Now**

Three days. It had been three days since the accident and Clint was still in a coma. In all that time, Tony and Bruce had barely left his side for a second. At first, all of them had stayed but, unfortunately, when something bad happens to someone, most of the time, life and responsibilities don't stop and give everybody else a break to deal with it. So one by one the others had been forced to leave.

It had started with Pepper. She stayed a full day before Stark Industries could not be put off any longer and she had been forced to go take care of things.

Then SHIELD had found something else that needed to be dealt with, and since Tony and Bruce absolutely refused to leave, Thor and Natasha had drawn the short straws and gone to take care of the problem.

Soon after that, Thor and Natasha found that they needed a little more help than originally anticipated, so it had fallen to Steve go assist them.

Now it was just the three of them again. But unlike last time, there was no laughing or joking or teasing. There was just silence and the steady beep of the heart monitor proving that Clint's body was still alive. His mind, on the other hand, was not so certain.

It had been three days. And with every day that went by, the chances of him waking up grew slimmer. It had only been three days and yet the doctors were already talking about 'options.'

Options. As if there were any options. The doctors kept telling them to prepare themselves. They kept saying things like: 'severe injuries,' 'crashed twice on the table and had to be revived,' 'not breathing on his own,' 'may have gone without oxygen too long,' 'the damage to his body may have been too much.' The doctors kept telling them they needed to think about the possibility that he might not wake up. And they wanted the team to start thinking about whether or not they would eventually take Clint off life support if he didn't improve after a certain amount of time and how long they would want to wait.

Options, they called them. Those weren't options, they were a death sentence and as far as Bruce and Tony were concerned the only _option_ they had, was to wait for Clint to wake up. He _would_ wake up. Because they didn't know what they would do if he didn't.

And yet, two weeks went by and there was no change. No improvement or progress of any kind. Clint just remained stuck in limbo, not dead but hardly alive either. Finally the rest of the team had to consider the truth and as much as they didn't want to think about it Tony and Bruce were forced to consider it too.

The six of them sat down around Clint's still form and discussed what they should do. Throughout the conversation, Pepper was mostly in tears, Natasha looked like she wanted to follow Pepper's example but was too stubborn to let herself, Steve and Thor, who couldn't hide behind ignorance no matter how much they wanted to, had mixtures of sorrow and anger on their faces and looked like they wanted to destroy something, and Tony and Bruce just looked vacant.

They were tuned into the conversation and completely aware, but emotionally they were checked out. It was like when there is an overload of power and a breaker flips to prevent permanent damage. It was as if Tony and Bruce had had an emotional overload and their brains had flipped a switch to disconnect their emotions so there wouldn't be permanent damage. But, unfortunately, they couldn't avoid that forever because it was less than unlikely that Clint would recover.

Although Tony and Bruce only spoke when spoken to, they did reluctantly agree that Clint wouldn't want to be like that for months or years in the vain hope that he would wake up. But at the same time, none of them could let him go just yet. They weren't ready. In all honesty they probably never would be ready, but they just couldn't let him go after only two weeks. So they agreed to give him another week and if there was still no change, they would decide when to remove life support.

**)()()(**

The week seemed to pass agonizingly slow as they waited for some sign of improvement, while at the same time it seemed like in the blink of an eye, their time was up and they had to decide. This time, Tony and Bruce didn't have the luxury of being detached. There was such a violent swirl of emotion in their eyes that the others weren't sure what they were feeling. They didn't cry or curse or lash out, Bruce didn't hulk out or show any outward signs of distress but one look at their eyes said it all. They were _not_ all right.

The week before they hadn't been ready and they were by no means even close to 'ready' now. But they had to face the facts. They would never be 'ready.' No one can ever be 'ready' to let a loved one go, but this wasn't about them anymore. This was about Clint, and it was time to honor what they knew Clint would and would not have wanted. So, together, the six of them made the painful decision to disconnect Clint from life support.

The following day, the doctor came in, the consent papers were signed, and they were informed of the procedure of turning off the ventilator, removing the breathing and feeding tubes, and that it would probably take several hours for his breathing to become slower and slower and his heartbeat to become weaker and weaker before his breathing stopped, his heart faltered, and then he would slip away.

Then the six, teammates/friends/family members watched as the button was pushed and the one thing keeping their friend's body alive was removed.

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><p><strong>Okay, guys. From here, there are a few options as I have ideas on a couple of different endings I can do. Leave me a review or send me a PM and let me know your preference.<strong>

**1. Clint dies. *Tears***

**2. Clint lives. *Cheers***

**Or**

**3. Both endings (in which case you get two more chapters instead of one, an ending then an alternate ending).**

**Let me know which option you want, or even if you don't care either way. :)**


	6. If This Is the Way It Ends

**A/N Wow! I got the same number of reviews for the last chapter as all the previous chapters combined! Thank you guys so much! Okay, so counting up all the votes I received via reviews and PMs (which ended up being A LOT of votes) amazingly it actually ended up being a tie between Clint lives and Clint dies. So, to satisfy everybody, I will post both endings.**

**However, for those of you who do not want Clint to die or don't like deathfics, this chapter is the happy, Clint lives, chapter (even though it may not seem like it at first :P). If you don't want to read a tragic ending then this is the last chapter for you. For those of you, however, who are interested in the sad, alternate, Clint dies, ending, I will be posting it next week. Enjoy! :)**

**If This Is the Way It Ends**

It took four hours for anything to happen. For four hours, they all sat there, around his bed, and waited for the inevitable. For four hours, there was no change, no difference in the room aside from the absence of the sounds of the ventilator that had been removed hours before. But after four hours, something happened. Clint started moving.

His fingers twitched, then his head moved slightly, before his face flinched in a wince. But they didn't get excited, they didn't call the doctors, and they didn't start trying to get Clint to wake up, thinking that the doctors may have been wrong after all. In fact, they didn't move and they barely breathed because the doctors had warned them to expect this. They had told them that sometimes there is movement and signs of life in the final moments before the body gives out. They had been warned not to get excited or hopeful because it was a sign of death not life.

So they didn't move, they didn't get excited, they just felt sorrow and pain as they watched what they were sure was a completely normal display of their friend's final moments of life. But like the rest of the Avengers, Clint had never been normal. So when, instead of growing still and slipping away, Clint opened his eyes and looked, really looked, at them with recognition in his eyes before giving them a small smile, they all froze, afraid to believe their eyes.

"Hey, guys," Clint mumbled.

For a full minute, nothing moved. The room was completely still and silent as if they were a movie that had been paused and was sitting there, frozen. Then, as if someone had pushed 'play,' they began moving again. All of them leapt out of their seats and started talking and yelling at once, calling to Clint and calling for doctors and nurses and anyone and everyone.

The hospital staff ran into a room and were met with an uproar of movement and sound. They had seen it before. Even after warning the families, it wasn't uncommon for them to get excited in the final moments. Hope is a strong force and a person can believe almost anything if they want to badly enough. But the doctors and nurses were caught off guard when they moved over to the bed, fully expecting to have to dash the hopes of those who were standing there so excited and hopeful, and found the man in the bed, not only _not _dying but lying there with his eyes open and looking at them with intelligent awareness and not an ounce of concern as if he was completely used to the six people around him yelling and jumping around. By the smirk and indulgent look on his face, it actually seemed as if he found the chaos to be, not only normal, but amusing as well.

The two doctor's and two nurses who had run into the room in response to the yelling, stopped in their tracks with their mouths hanging open slightly. At their reaction, the six individuals around the bed also stopped and everything was quiet again before the silence was broken by the one voice that everyone had been wanting to hear for three straight weeks.

"Hey, what's a guy got to do around here to get something to eat?" Clint said in a voice that was hoarse from disuse but was strong and coherent.

His voice seemed to break the spell and the doctors moved forward to begin to check their patient but they never got close as the six other people in the room all but dog-piled the archer in a huge tearful and joyous group hug, once again all talking at once about how glad they were he was awake and all right and he was never leaving their sight again and they were going to wrap him up in bubble wrap to keep him safe and other overlapping comments that Clint didn't even try to respond to, knowing that they would never hear him over each other anyway. So he just smiled, happy to have his friends around him, and knowing that he would find out all the important details if he was patient.

Sure enough, the doctors eventually got the group calmed down enough to check Clint out and deem him as not dying, to which Tony was sure to point out that the six of them could have told the doctors that. Then the doctors, with unrequested help from Tony, informed Clint of everything that had happened. Clint remembered the crash and knowing that Tony would be blaming himself, Clint was quick to tell the billionaire that it was in no way his fault that they had been t-boned by a drunken idiot who, as it turned out, had survived and was being prosecuted for drunk driving and reckless endangerment.

Then Clint made Tony promise to put in glass resistant seat belts in all of his cars before the archer was taken by the doctors to be thoroughly examined. They ran numerous tests and scans to determine that everything was working as it should, there was no brain damage, and aside from needing a little bit of physical therapy to restrengthen muscles that hadn't been used in too long, Clint was going to be fine.

The archer himself was a little doubtful about that when, instead of bringing him the pizza he had asked for, they delivered broth since his stomach hadn't had solid food in so long. Clint was sure he was going to starve to death and made it a point to voice that opinion multiple times. But contrary to that firm belief, he didn't die of starvation and made an astonishing recovery.

The doctors said it was an extremely rare occurrence that happens once in a blue moon. Depending on the circumstances, a person can sometimes wake up after being removed from life support. The doctors said it was kind of like hitting 'control, alt, delete' on a computer when it freezes up and it kind of jump starts it into working again. Clint seemed to be one of those blue moons who decided he'd rather wake up and prove everybody wrong than die like everyone kept saying he would. Clint was nothing if not stubborn and he loved proving people wrong.

What's more, since his broken bones had mostly healed while he was unconscious, Clint was allowed to start physical therapy fairly quickly and he practically flew through it, the therapists commenting on how few patients ever worked as hard as Clint, to which the team replied that Clint was no stranger to hard work. After all, you don't get to be one of Earth's mightiest heroes by being lazy. Through it all, the whole team was by his side but none more than Bruce and Tony who were always there to give him company and cheer him on (Bruce) or drive him crazy (Tony). But Clint could give as good as he got and managed to play more than one prank on Tony, including getting a hold of some Lidocaine and putting it Tony's drink, causing the billionaire's mouth to go numb and prevent him from talking understandably for four hours. Clint laughed with every garbled and slurred word that came from the angry billionaire.

Tony, however, never got too mad, and neither did Bruce when the pranks went awry and got him too. They were both so glad that he was alive and well, that they let him get away with a lot. But Bruce didn't expect that to last long. There was no way Tony was going to let things slide for any length of time before doing some major retaliating. And, in all honesty, Bruce, Natasha, Steve, Thor, and Pepper were actually looking forward to the two men turning the tower into ridiculous chaos. Their home had been absent of any happiness or fun for far too long.

Fortunately, just two weeks after waking up, Clint was going home to finish his recovery there. And just two months after the senseless car crash that had injured two of their teammates, nearly costing the life of one of them, the six individuals that had started off as enemies, then were forced to become the team know as The Avengers, before eventually becoming not only friends but a family, were once again fighting side by side to protect the world. And Tony was thinking about inventing a device that could encase Clint in bubble wrap, partly as a revenge prank, and partly to make sure their resident Hawk never fell and broke a wing again, and, miraculously, he had actually managed to convince Bruce to help him pull it off.

In the end, the only permanent remnants left from the accident, were a few scars and some bad memories, along with an even stronger bond between the seven people who called Avenger's tower their home.

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><p><strong>AN Please leave me a review and let me know what you think. After the last chapter, I know how many reviews I can actually get for a chapter (26), so feel free to match (or exceed) that. :)**


	7. Then This Is The Way It's Meant To Be

**A/N Okay, so this is the alternate ending where Clint dies. If you do not want to read a deathfic ending then disregard this update. **

**Thanks go to **_**WynonaRose**_** for giving me the idea of organ donation. **

**Once again, I apologize if my medical information is wrong.**

**WARNING: CHARACTER DEATH! (I tried not to make it too sad, though, so hopefully there's not any need for a tissue warning :P)**

**Then This Is The Way It's Meant To Be**

They didn't know which was worse, the conversation about removing life support, or the one about organ donation. But once again, the team had to go with what they knew Clint would want.

Clint was an Avenger, and as such, he risked his life, sometimes on a daily basis, to protect and save others. They knew that if Clint could, he would tell them to save people.

Clint was a hero, and yet he wasn't struck down saving the world from some threat or protecting a teammate. He was dying because of a sudden, senseless accident caused by an idiot who decided to drink then get behind the wheel and run a red light. It was all so senseless and meaningless.

And that was no way for one of Earth's Mightiest Heroes to go out.

Some good had to come from it, some meaning. Clint lived to save people, and that was the way he should die.

So when the doctors asked for Clint's organs, the team said yes. When the doctors asked for his eyes, they said yes. But when the doctors asked about his skin, they drew the line. As selfish as it might have been, they couldn't give that. They were already giving and losing so much.

They weren't allowed to know the names or details of who were to receive Clint's organs, but they were permitted to know that Clint's organs would be saving the lives of four people, including two children, a young single mother, and a man who would now live to see the birth of his first child. In addition to that, Clint's eyes would restore the sight to a young soldier whose eyes had been damaged in combat.

Even in death, Clint would be a hero, one of Earth's mightiest.

Ultimately,it took four hours for the beeping of the heart monitor to become slow and irregular, for his breathing to become uneven and halting, and for Clint Barton, aka Hawkeye, Avenger, hero, and friend, to slip away.

The funeral was a private affair. There was no press, no dignitaries, no distant acquaintances. It was just the six friends gathered to say goodbye to their brother, while, around the world, people mourned the loss of one of the world's greatest heroes.

It tore the team up. They all missed Clint and took his death hard, but not nearly as hard as Tony and Bruce. Tony took to drinking more and more. He stopped tinkering and inventing, he stopped living and merely started existing. After all, he had been the one driving that night.

Bruce went back to school to get an MD after his name instead of the helpless PhD he already had. When the class was asked why they wanted to become doctors, several said for the money, several more said to help people. But Bruce silenced the room when he was asked why he had gone back to school at his age to become a doctor.

"Because I never want to sit by and watch a friend die because I am helpless to do anything, ever again," he answered. After all, he had been unable to help Clint while waiting for the ambulance, because he hadn't known what to do.

Tony and Bruce no longer talked. In fact, they could barely stand to look at each other, so afraid of seeing the same blame in each others eyes that they had placed on themselves. What they didn't realize was that the only ones blaming them were themselves, and nether one blamed the other as they each believed.

It wasn't until the rest of the team got fed up with Bruce's and Tony's self-destructive self-loathing and locked them in a room together, that they were finally forced to confront the truth.

"I'm sorry," Bruce whispered after thirty minutes of silence and avoiding each other's eyes.

"What?" Tony asked. "What for?"

"It's my fault he's gone," Bruce said softly.

"What are you talking about? It wasn't your fault. It was mine."

For the first time in months, the two friends looked each other in the eye and neither saw what they expected.

"But I couldn't save him. He was laying in the street, injured, and I couldn't save him," Bruce argued, trying to make Tony see where the blame truly belonged.

"I was driving!" Tony yelled.

"It was green," Bruce echoed Tony's words from so many months before.

"I should have seen it. I should have been able to avoid it," Tony said, all the fight going out of him.

"There was absolutely no way you could have. It wasn't your fault," Bruce said.

"It wasn't yours either," Tony replied.

"I couldn't save him," Bruce said sadly.

"Neither could I!" Tony exploded, the fire rising up in him again. "I sat there, concussed and mumbling about a green light like an idiot while you stemmed his bleeding and tried to help. You say it wasn't my fault? Well it wasn't yours either because, unlike me, you were actually able to do something to help!" He took a deep breath, his tone softening. "You can't punish yourself for not knowing something, Bruce. If you're going to blame yourself then you have to blame me too."

"I don't- I _can't_ blame you. It wasn't your fault and Clint was just as much your friend as mine. I know this has to have torn you up just as much as me. I just- I just can't seem to stop blaming myself and thinking about 'what ifs.'"

"Well then I'll just have to keep reminding you that it wasn't your fault until you finally start believing it," Tony said with a small smile.

"And I'll have to keep reminding you," Bruce agreed.

"Because friends take care of each other."

"Speaking of which, you need to stop the drinking," Bruce said seriously, his voice hardening slightly out of concern. "It's not good and it's not healthy for you to drink yourself into oblivion everyday."

"How did you-"

"Pepper told me."

"Oh."

"You know he wouldn't want that," Bruce said gently.

"And he wouldn't want you trying to _make up_ for his death, either," Tony replied.

"What do you mean?"

"This whole 'doctor' thing. Tell me the truth. Are you becoming an MD because you want to, or because you feel like you have to make it up to him?" Tony asked.

Bruce looked away, unable to meet Tony's penetrating gaze. Aside from Clint, Tony had always been the only one who could see through him like that. The three of them had always shared a special bond. They had known each other so well and could often tell when something was wrong and what the others were thinking. Now the three musketeers were only two, but that didn't change the fact that they knew each other well enough to see through facades that the rest of the world completely believed.

"If you want to become a doctor so you can save lives and help people, then do it. But don't do it because you're trying to atone for Clint's death," Tony whispered.

A long stretch of silence ensued as the two men got lost in their thoughts before Bruce finally spoke.

"I know we'll never be the same, but, do you think we'll ever be okay again?" Bruce asked softly, raising his eyes to meet Tony's once more.

"Will it ever stop hurting?" Tony said, voicing the question beneath Bruce's question. "No. I don't think that's possible. But will we be able to live with it without it crushing us every second of every day? Will we be able to go on and actually start living again instead of just existing? Yes. I think we can. But only together. Because I know I can't do it alone, and I don't think you can either."

They stood there, staring each other in the eye and silently acknowledging the insurmountable feat of getting past their grief and living their lives again. But they had overcome insurmountable before and they could do it again.

"Together," Bruce said.

"Together," Tony agreed.

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><p><strong>Well, that's it guys. Thanks for coming along with me on this ride and hopefully I'll have some more Avengers stories for you before too terribly long. Until then, drop me one last review and let me know if this story was to your liking. :)<strong>


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